Just Trying to Remember You
by simple.chances
Summary: When Kaito woke up he felt like there was a hole in his chest, like something important was missing and he couldn't figure out what. Months passed since then and the feelings fade, even though he has never solved the mystery to the disconnected number on he contact list. But when he met Conan, he finally remembered what it was like to be whole again. AU, not told in order, KaiShin.
1. In the beginning, it was the end

_**Just Trying to Remember You**_

_**In the beginning, it was the end**_

_This was it; that was his last bit of pocket change, there would be no second chances. No that it mattered, after this the day would be over and he'd be gone. He took in a deep breath, folding his glasses and setting them on top of the payphone. He knew that he wouldn't need them anymore, not that they were ever real or ever actually needed them._

_The phone rang, and all he could do was pray that it wouldn't connect. Pray that Kaito was busy, that he'd forgotten to charge his phone or just simply wouldn't answer a number he didn't recognize. Anything would do, as long as he didn't have to say goodbye. He knew Kaito would blame himself in the morning, Kaito would believe that he had failed him when he needed him most._

_But this wasn't Kaito's fault, this was his own choice and every moment was worth this so long a Kaito would be the one still breathing when the sun came up._

"_Hello," Kaito's cheery voice called out, it felt as if the ground had shattered beneath his feet as the shock settled in. _

"_Hello," he called again when he hadn't received an answer, his tone much more serious, causing Shinichi to recollect himself._

"_Hey, Kaito," he spoke slowly, doing his best to keep his voice from cracking. He knew this was going to hurt in the morning._

"_Oh, hey Conan, you we're starting to freak me out when you didn't answer," he could almost see how Kaito's face lit up when he answered the warmth in his eyes; as if he was here, right in front of him instead of across town._

_It was almost enough to make him smile, "No." He replied softly, my name's not Conan, you were right when you asked if I were Shinichi."_

Kaito was lounging lazily on his bed, staring at this foreign contact in his cell phone. Though glaring would be a much more accurate term, but this was an enigma, he had every right to glare and loath at a few simple letters when they could cause this much of a headache.

It read as _Shin-chan_, nothing more. He had tried it once; he called it a thousand times to no answer. No, that wasn't true; he had gotten an answer, but not one he particularly liked. Every time he dialed the number he had gotten that little mechanical voice telling him that the number didn't exist and that he should try again with a new one.

But that only aggravated him further, stoking the flames to his obsession of calling this number that didn't exist belonging to a person he didn't know. He heard once, that the definition of insanity was doing the same thing over and over expecting a deferent result. If that were true, which he firmly believed otherwise, then he needed a straight jacket and professional help immediately.

Who was this _Shin-chan_; that was the burning question here, not the stability of his mental health. Sure, he could delete the contact, freeing himself from this torture, then that was like admitting defeat. Kuroba Kaito was no quitter, but he wasn't above asking for help.

He had asked his mother once, but that quickly proved to be a dead end. He remembered the look on her face; she was just as confused by the question as he was when he first discovered the strange contact. But he also remembered what she said too, and that was far more frightening.

"_Shin-chan, hmm? Maybe it's someone you knew before you woke up?"_

If that were true, what else could he have forgotten? This _Shin-chan_ could be someone important to him; this unidentified person could be that someone he wanted to wake up for. But, not only that, if this _Shin-chan_ was important in any way and he had forgotten them, what else could he have forgotten?

~:~

**Song of inspiration: Payphon by Marron 5**

**Chapter Lyrics: **_**I'm at payphone trying to call home/ all of my change spent on you/**_


	2. Someone I used to remember

_**Just Trying to Remember You**_

_**Someone I used to remember**_

It was so dark, but that didn't matter now. Nothing mattered now. It was like he was losing himself, and fast. He couldn't feel anything, at least nothing physical. But his floating consciousness knew better, this was real, the _he_ was _real_.

_Is this what it's like to be dead_, he wondered for the briefest moment. It was a bitter thought, but if anything, it was expected.

No, if he had died, he'd know. He didn't know how, but he had this spark of a feeling doing its best to convince him that he was still alive, that there was someone waiting for him. This little spark was screaming at him to keep his resolve, to wake up on his own so he could see that person again.

He didn't know what that spark meant, but he didn't want to let it down.

But he didn't know how much time he had left, or how much he's spent just laying here in the darkness. It felt like an eternity, and yet like no time was passing at all. _But isn't that when time moves the slowest, when it isn't moving at all?_

He wanted to give up, this was aggravating! If had a physical body, he'd be ripping his hair out in frustration. He didn't know why all of this was bothering him, the darkness was warm, _soothing_ even; but that annoying little spark in the back his mind was chipping away at what little sanity he assumed he had left.

_Times running out,_ that little spark hummed at him, _if you choose to give up you'll live to regret it!_

Whatever that little spark was, it was angry, it was scared, but most of all, it was determined to make sure he didn't give up. It urged him to find a way to the light, to wake up, and he tried. But it felt impossible, it felt like all his focus and time was being wasted on something no one could achieve in any lifetime.

_Impossible_, he thought bitterly, like it was the ugliest thing in the world. He felt that just the fact the word _impossible_ even existed was admitting to defeat. Like no one had to actually try at anything because they confused that word with hard or difficult and then decided to give up, so no matter what he kept pushing.

He pushed with everything he had, with everything he was to return to a world that the little spark begged him to rejoin.

Suddenly there was this gentle warmth, and for a moment he thought he had succeeded. For a moment he let himself believe that he had won, that he beat the impossible!

But that little spark shattered, _it's too late_, rang in the back of his mind when he opened his eyes.

The world was bright, so bright that his eyes burned even without the addition to the florescent lights.

It only took him a moment to realize where he was, a private hospital room. It was cold, unlike the darkness, it reeked of that clean smell only chemicals could provide. His heart was heavy, even as it jumped to throat. Tears burned his eyes, he felt like a complete failure, like the most important person in the entire universe needed him and he just let them crash and burn.

He shut his eyes harshly, he wanted more than anything to go back to that darkness. He wanted a second chance at that promise in the back of his mind. But this was the real world, a world he didn't want to be a part of, and there were no second chances.

He turned his head, he couldn't let himself cry. Not when he didn't fully understand why he wanted to in the first place.

Everything hurt when he tried to move, even more so when he winced in reflex. When he finally reopened his eyes he unintentionally stopped breathing. He choked on the oxygen he was being mechanically supplied with, forcing him to breathe again. Across from him was his childhood friend, she slept soundly, leaning back in plush faux-leather hospital chair with what looked to be her father's jacket draped over her. Her cheeks looked damp, and her face was a soft pink.

She had been crying, he realized.

"Aoko," he barely choked out, it's been a while since he had last spoken, Kaito noted. His throat was dry and scratchy; it brought him great pain to speak. But he knew he had to, "what happened?" he whispered, but his breaking voice was drowned out by her soft snoring, machines beeping and light chatter from outside his room.

He knew it wouldn't be long until a doctor or nurse rushed in or even Aoko's father, and he really didn't want to be there when that happened. He knew what to expect in this kind of situation, the tears, the yelling, all the pent up worry and stress finally being released.

He knew that whatever had happened, that it was his fault. And he didn't want to face it.

It's been months_ Kaito thought bitterly, nearly three months had passed and everything felt as if his life was bordering on hopeless. His usually sporadic nature was at a standstill, and his upbeat, optimistic point of view was now seeing everything in a shade of gray._

_It was like his entire life was seeing everything in a glass-half-empty, but not because someone chose to only pour half a glass. It was like he had a full glass at one point in life and then some rude, greedy, little troll stole his cup, drank half of it, and spat in an extra dose of 'fuck my life', and threw it back in his face._

_He didn't mean to act so biter, or feel so depressed, but he couldn't stop himself from going to that forbidden dark place in the back of his mind. The missing piece that he so desperately wanted to reach, that piece he knew would tell him who Shin-chan was and why he wanted to remember so badly._

_But in the forefront of his memory was that hurt look Aoko gave him when he asked her. When Kaito asked her if she knew anyone that could possibly know him better than her, at first she said, 'what about your mom?' _

_But he already asked her, and he quickly said just that._

'_Oh, I'm sorry,' her tone was soft and gentle; it made him feel like she almost understood his pain. 'Is there something you think you don't remember?' She asked he knew she genuinely wanted to help him. _

_Aoko had become somewhat of a mother hen to him after his accident, drilling him about everything, asking him questions about anything, making him backup and recall even the tiniest of details of past events to make sure that his memory was intact. He remembered, after weeks of her quizzes and rehabilitation he had come home after school and his final doctors' visitation to 'CONGARDUALTIONS!' with confetti and cake._

_There was nothing wrong with him, the cast on his arm was taken off that day and his ribs still needed to heal a bit more, but he was fine. He should have been happy._

_But he wasn't._

_And Aoko's hurt look when he finally asked her who this mysterious 'Shin-chan' was nearly broke him in two. She looked at him like he lied to her, that he had been hiding secrets from her. But what bothered him the most about it, was that the strongest emotion swirling in her eyes told him that she missed this person too. And just like him, she didn't know why._

'_I'm sorry, Kaito, but I don't know any Shin-chan. I wish I could help you.'_

~:~

**Chapter Lyrics: I know it's hard to remember/ the people we used to be/ it's even harder to picture that you're not here next to me**


End file.
